


Line of Duty

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Pre-TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: Becoming the newly-promoted General Hux’s adjutant was both an honor and something of a nuisance.





	Line of Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [urami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/urami/gifts).



Becoming the newly-promoted General Hux’s adjutant was both an honor and something of a nuisance. Mitaka had to admit that it wasn’t _really_ Hux’s fault – the First Order was full of stuffy or stick-up-the-ass high ranking offices, among whom Hux was far from the worst – but Mitaka could not help but feel like his talents were being wasted in this role. He was gunning for a promotion to Lieutenant and that would be easier to get if he was in an active posting, as opposed to glued to dealing with the administrative side of a general’s day-to-day affairs. Hux didn’t even particularly want him there – it seemed like Mitaka was something of a nuisance himself.

There was _one_ upside to the entire thing and that was that watching Hux work could be mesmerizing. He was hyper-focused, meticulous, but never got bogged down in too much detail – always able to see the big picture. During his more brilliant moment, he seemed to snatch ideas out of the air. He could stare out of a viewport and discern among the streaks of hyperspace the beginning of a new strategy, could calculate it out, see It through to the end in his mind’s eye. 

On a good day, he would share some of those thoughts with Mikata. But Mitaka only ever saw hyperspace lanes in the viewport, top of class at the Academy or not. 

*******

“I should be on Starkiller Base, not here,” Hux complained, flipping mechanically through the files on his datapad. 

Starkiller was Hux’s new pet project. He had lobbied hard for it and finally attained the Supreme Leader’s consent and the requisite funding to begin construction of what was supposed to become some sort of superweapon. It was all highly classified. Naturally. 

“Instead,” Hux continued, the irritated clip to his tone making Mitaka stand up a little straighter, just in case. “I’m stuck here, at a pompous Academy affair, handing out _pretend_ medals to cadets.” 

“They’re not _pretend,_ ” Mitaka said, on impulse, instantly horrified by the outburst. “Sir.” It came out sheepish. 

Hux looked up and gave him a condescending-questioning look, eyebrows half-raised. 

Mitaka felt his face redden. “They’re givin for real achievements – in the classroom, on the training field. They’re not battle honors, of course, and no one pretends that they are. But they’re not… _pretend._ ”

Something in Hux’s expression made Mitaka uncomfortable. There was a thoughtful crease to his forehead, but it felt like the look of an adult trying to find a way to explain to a child something so rudimentary that putting it into words was difficult. It wasn’t a look with which Mitaka wanted to be regarded. “They are pretend in that the achievements they commemorate have no effect on anyone or anything other than the person who achieved. Do you see?”

“Yes, sir.” 

Hux nodded. “Meet me at the shuttle dock in three quarters of an hour. Make sure you have the list of names, honors and comments that I will be making with you. I want another review on the way to the ceremony. Pretend medals or not, I won’t be the cause of an…episode.”

“Yes, sir.” Mitaka stared at the floor for a long time after the doors had hissed shut behind Hux. Medals had meant a lot to him back in school. They told him he mattered. They told him he was good enough. 

But honors would have come easily to someone as brilliant as Hux. Of course they meant nothing to him. 

_Just like you._

__*******

It was cold on Starkiller Base. The entire planet was almost always covered with snow. There was some explanation for this – the engineers had explained it to Hux but Mitaka had zoned out through most of that meeting. Hux hadn’t, but Mitaka wondered if he had understood a word they said. He did not trust Hux’s current good mood enough to actually ask. 

The construction of the main control center facility was long under way but still only half complete. Large sections of the building were still nothing but forests of durasteel beams and incomplete, unpolished paneling. Force fields hummed on high energy to keep the construction area dry and prevent erosion and water damage to the unfinished and uninsulated structure. 

A series of outflung command posts and maintenance structures were also planned, but the construction for many of these had not yet begun or was only beginning. Accordingly, Hux scheduled an all-planet tour with a senior engineer and a technical officer who were well versed in the details of the project. 

Mitaka, mostly cold, hung back and allowed Hux to work. 

As much as he wanted to get away from it, he was actually good at the administrative things. He knew Hux, knew his routine, had learned how Hux liked things to be organized and what annoyed him. Generals tended to go through adjutants like an Outer Rim “lady” through white gloves, but he had been with Hux for nearly half a year by this point and there was still no sign that he may be replaced. In fact, he’d overheard once Hux bragging to a fellow general that he got an aid-de-camp who “actually knew how to do his job.”

The thought made Mitaka feel proud. And something else.

He tried to not dwell on the something else. 

*******

Of course, if the speeder broke down it had to happen in the middle of nowhere in a signal dead spot. The technical officer said it would take several hours to get the vehicle operational if they were lucky. 

Hux frowned and looked over a ridge of snow to the skeletal construction of what would one day be a command outpost. “We may need to spend the night here,” Hux said to Mitaka. 

The sky was indeed getting dark, filling with stars and distant planets. 

“Will the outpost provide any shelter?” Hux asked.

The technical officer shrugged. “There’s some paneling on the sides. The forcefield shield will keep out the wind and snow, but there won’t be much heat. There’s a radiator capsule in the emergency bag. It should last several hours.”

“There’s two,” Mitaka said, already going through the bag looking for thermal blankets and rations.

“We will leave one for you,” Hux told the officer, “and take the other for ourselves. See if you can get this thing running so we can get back to base or at least back within signal range.” He gestured to Mitaka to follow him. 

“I will stay and help,” the senior engineer offered. 

Hux glanced back over his shoulder with a look that clearly said he hardly expected anything else. “Naturally.” 

Snow crunched beneath their feet as they walked, crisp and undisturbed. The spidery dark structure of the outpost building’s scaffolding loomed before them. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have left them out there in the dark,” Mitaka said, glancing over his shoulder anxiously. The technical officer and senior engineer were trying to figure out how best to manage the lighting in the mounting gloom. “Waited until morning.”

“They’ll be fine,” Hux said. “The faster they fix that thing, the sooner we can all get to headquarters and have a hot mug of caf.”

They found an area where there was some durasteel paneling and laid out the thermal blankets. Mitaka began to fuss with the heater and the food rations. Hux, meanwhile, opened some map holograms and wondered through them, deep in thought. “Do you want to eat?” Mitaka asked. 

“Hmm?” Hux was staring at something on one of the maps. He had that expression of intense concentration, the sort he always had before a brilliant thought occurred to him. Mitaka waited in anticipation but Hux didn’t say anything else.

“Sir?” he tried again. “Rations?” 

“Hm? Yes—Mitaka, come here, tell me what you think about this?” Hux pointed at a cluster of planets on one of the holograms, a double system with two suns and very wide planet orbits. It seemed to straddle the Mid Rim and Outer Rim almost equally. “Saramipha V has been a thorn in our side for months. They are a stronghold for rebels and keep blockading the Outer Rim planets to the extent I’m afraid we may lose their loyalty. This entire sector is volatile as hell. All these Mid Rim worlds are neutrals and holding on to that status. I want to get a good go at Saramipha but I don’t know how to do it properly without invading the cosmic space of any of these planets—best to not antagonize them too much for now. We can’t send a small squad from the Outer Rim side – they won’t make it there with enough fuel to assault and come back. Besides, we’ll need more firepower. But we can’t send a flagship either – it won’t fit safely through this asteroid field here. So, we’ll have to come in through the Mid Rim. But…” He broke off and looked expectantly over at Mitaka. 

Mitaka rose, feeling an uncomfortable unsteadiness to his legs. “You want my opinion, sir?” 

Exasperation flickered over Hux’s face for a moment. Then it was gone. “I read in your file that you’re good at planet motion calculations. Do you think there will ever be a time when this gap opens up far enough for us to come through and get at the target with all the other planets being on the other side of their orbits. At least far away for us to not invade their cosmic space?” 

“Sir, I couldn’t say precisely. I would need a lot of parameters and—“

Hux put up another hologram with the data table. 

“I can’t do all of this in my head,” Mitaka admitted sheepishly. 

“Just an approximation for now.”

Two hours later they were deep in discussions of planetary physics and motion as well as tactics and a little bit of politics. Mitaka was in the middle of explaining something when he suddenly looked up and found himself looking straight into Hux’s face. For a moment, there was something unguarded there. It took Mitaka aback and he froze, his words melting on the tip of his tongue. 

They looked at each other for a moment. Hux took a step forward. They were inches apart and Mitaka found he’d forgotten how to breath. 

“You’re good,” Hux said quietly. 

“I did well in my classes,” Mitaka blurted out and instantly regretted it, remembering how Hux felt about academic honors. 

“And now you’re putting it to good use.” Hux reached out and flicked a strand of Mitaka’s hair which had fallen into his face without him even realizing. “You’re shivering.”

“It’s cold.” That was true, but it wasn’t the _only_ reason. 

“That heating capsule must be faulty.” Somehow, Hux had managed to get even closer to him without moving. Or perhaps Mitaka had moved closer himself, unable to resist Hux’s pull. 

“We really should…try to keep warm…sir,” Mitaka said, the attempt at an insinuation making him feel giddy and all of fifteen all over again. 

Hux’s smirk was predatory just before he kissed him. 

*******

“You wanted to speak with me?” Mitaka lingered by the entrance of Hux’s private study on the _Finalizer._ Hux looked up and fixed him with a steady gaze. “Sir,” Mitaka added, as an odd afterthought. It seemed strange to be quite so formal after…what had happened – _a kiss that led to an embrace, that led to a hurried, frantic friction with both too much and too few clothes in the freezing winter air, that led to…_ Just the thought of it made Mitaka giddy and embarrassed all at once 

Hux gave a small huff, almost a sigh, and shook his head. He cleared the holofiles off his desk and stood. “I know that you have been hoping for a more active posting. I’m afraid the _Finalizer_ will not be in any action anytime soon as I plan to stay and oversee construction on Starkiller.”

Mitaka swallowed. “That’s quite alright, sir.” He could deal with not being promoted for a while longer if it meant he could have a real shot at something with Hux. It didn’t even have to be very time consuming or particularly romantic – Hux wasn’t a romantic person. But it could be…comfortable. 

Hux didn’t answer, nor did he come out from behind the desk. Instead, he said, “I’m promoting you.” 

Mitaka took a step forward. Then stopped. 

“I’m promoting you. You may stay on the _Finalizer_ if you so choose; we’re a new crew so there are lots of vacancies.” 

Somewhere between the joy, pride and confusion, something about Hux’s phrasing did not sit well with Mitaka. He attempted to turn his feelings down so he could figure out what the problem was exactly— _oh._ He _could_ stay. Hux was _lettering_ him stay. Not asking or ordering just… _allowing._ As if… 

“Oh, and,” Hux pressed on, not acknowledging Mitaka’s confused silence. “Lieutenant Mitaka, you are relieved of your adjutant duties.” 

Mitaka’s mind came to an abrupt halt. It wasn’t just a dismissal. It was a rejection. _Oh._ “Something I did wrong, sir?”

The corner of Hux’s mouth twitched up. “If you had done something wrong, I would not be promoting you. Now I have a meeting to get to. Excuse me.”

*******

Mitaka stood on the bridge of the _Finalizer_ , a lone figure swallowed up by the backdrop of the viewport. He stared out at the hundreds and thousands of white specks – each one a star – and thought of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Hux on hyperspace routs. Hux had seen grand visions of the future, Mitaka had seen the banal, obvious and literal. He had been strangely happy then. 

Footsteps across the bridge and a presence beside him made Mitaka tense. He did not need to look over to know it was Hux. Judging by the smell, he was holding a mug of caf. “You decided to stay.”

“Is it wrong of me to think you might change your mind?”

“It should never have happened.” Hux’s tone was flat but not nearly as cold as Mitaka had braced himself for. 

“But it did. And if you didn’t care, you would not have dismissed me. Or promoted me in the hopes that I might leave.”

“I never wanted an adjutant and you never wanted to be one. Why are you complaining?”

“I’m not complaining.”

Hux shifted in a way that suggested annoyance. 

“It’s fine, you know. I can wait.” He wasn’t lying. Mitaka had always been far more patient than most people. 

“Then wait.” Hux set down the thermos cup of caf and walked back across the bridge to command post. Mitaka picked up the cup and smiled vaguely at it. The drinking spout was still tucked and sealed. 

He would wait.


End file.
